


Omega Widow

by CaliopeJones



Category: Borderlands
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Borderlands AU, Fluff and Humor, M/M, a/b/o dynamics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-02
Updated: 2020-02-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:42:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21648493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaliopeJones/pseuds/CaliopeJones
Summary: After the death of a dear friend, Jack must contact their widow and inform them of his friend’s death.
Relationships: Handsome Jack/Rhys (Borderlands), Rhys/Wilhelm (previous)
Comments: 19
Kudos: 69





	1. Jack gets a call.

**Author's Note:**

> So, I decided I’d take a foray into the Borderlands AU and to explore some A/B/O dynamics and see what came out. Hope you enjoy.

The sickeningly saccharine sound of bubble pop music woke Jack from a restless slumber, and he glanced at the time on his ECHO before answering.

“It’s two in the morning, pumpkin. This had better be good or I’ll shoot you in the knee the next time I see you,” Jack groused sleepily into his ECHO as he leaned back onto his pillow. He could hear someone sobbing on the other end of the call.

“Jack…,” was all the caller said followed by more sobs and if that wasn’t irritating as all hell.

“Timmy? Timtam, you’d better stop sniveling and start making sense right now or I’m going to fire your ass, brother or not.” Jack said, sitting up and turning on the bedside lamp. He tried to think of some reason Tim would be a weeping mess, but knowing his twin, it could be anything from an adorable kitten rubbing his leg to the assassination target hadn’t died right away. Tim was shy and sweet and softer than Jack would ever expect an alpha he was related to could be, and one of these days Jack was going to have to take Tim off rotation with black ops and force him into a desk job, for Jack’s own sanity if nothing else. But Tim was part owner of Hyperion Security and it was always good publicity to have one of the Lawrence twins out in the field. Jack would be happy to do field work, but Tim was even worse at running the business.

Jack could hear Tim trying some deep breathing before coming back on the line, “Jack… The job…. FUCK! I can’t do this! FUCK!”

“Language, Timmy!” Jack scolded.

“Jack, dearest,” a gracious and clipped woman’s voice came over the line. “Timothy is a bit distraught at the moment and will need to calm down.”

“Aurelia, what’s going on?” Jack said, beginning to feel a pit of dread in his stomach.

“The job did not go well, Jack,” Aurelia said. She was one of his best agents, which was why he had assigned her to Timmy’s team. An overly capable beta who could stare down an apex alpha even though she had none of the usual scent markers. She didn’t care who someone was, if they crossed her, she’d put a bullet in them and then continue talking about her next gala as though they had never disrupted her. Aurelia Hammerlock was a force of nature and if she wasn’t such a frigid witch Jack might have tried to see what her bedroom game was like.

“Explain to me, sweet cheeks, how a standard delivery job meant as a vacation for the four of you doesn’t go well. Hmmm? You were supposed to get on the train in Tundra Express with the package, and escort it to Opportunity. How was that difficult? Hmm? Cupcake?” Jack said, getting out of his bed and pacing down the hall to his office, then back again into the bedroom, then back to the office door, then the bedroom. He could feel his hands and face getting hot as he gritted his teeth. “All you and the team had to do was watch the countryside roll by and sip those moronic fruity drinks you and Tim like so much before enjoying a week-long stay in Opportunity getting pampered at the resort spa before returning back to base. How does that go wrong, pumpkin?”

“The bridge was blown just outside of Thousand Cuts,” Aurelia responded as sweetly as if she were speaking about the sunny weather on Wam Bam Island. Jack saw a black-haired head peek out of the door on the right side of the hallway. “Half the train fell into the gorge there, darling.”

“Fuuuuckdge!” Jack growled before adjusting his tone and crouching down to his daughter’s level. “Hey sweetie, why are you awake? You should get back to bed, it’s a big day tomorrow! First day of summer school, honey!”

“Daddy, you stink like angry, who you talking to?” Angel asked, rubbing sleepily at her eyes and scrunching up her nose.

“Oh, it’s just Auntie Aurelia,” Jack said gently, trying to calm himself until his scent levelled out. He ignored the derisive snort on the other end of the ECHO. “Nothing to worry about, sweetness.”

“Jack, we need to discuss this,” Nisha’s voice reverberated out of the ECHO. Apparently, Jack was going to get passed around. Luckily, Wilhelm usually never had anything to say so Jack would only have to deal with his still sobbing brother and the two harpies.

“Daddy, I’m thirsty,” his daughter announced and clumsily ambled toward the kitchen as only a sleepy five-year-old can.

“Give me a fudging minute, Nish.” Jack muttered menacingly into the ECHO, ignoring the cussing on the other end. He put the ECHO to his chest and followed his daughter into the kitchen. “Sweetheart, what about the glass of water next to your bed?”

“It was old,” Angel said petulantly while picking up the small stool that allowed her access to her plastic drinking cups in the upper cupboards. Jack looked on fondly as she pulled out her Captain Bear cup, then moved the stool to the sink and turned on the faucet. “It was sitting there for hours. I can’t drink old water, Daddy.”

Jack watched as his daughter took three sips of water then dumped the rest of the full glass into the sink. “You ready to get back to bed, princess?”

“Yep,” she replied and put her hands up in the air in the ‘pick me up, daddy’ signal. “Daddy, why is your ECHO saying bad words?”

“Hold your panties on, Nish, I gotta put Angel back to bed,” he said harshly into the ECHO before setting it on the counter.

“Hey, pretty girl, that’s nothing to worry about,” Jack said, picking up his daughter and carrying her to her bedroom to lay her gently on her bed. “It’s time to go back to sleep, honey. If you don’t get enough sleep, you won’t be awake enough to show everyone how smart you are tomorrow.”

“Okay, Daddy,” she said, snuggling herself back into bed with Buttstallion, her plush white pony, tucked in under her chin.

Jack kissed her head and said, “If you have a very good day tomorrow, I may surprise you with a treat….”

“Ice cream? Donuts? Lickrish?” Angel queried.

“I don’t know, pumpkin. Might be some fried crickets or worms pie if you’re not asleep soon. Good night, sweetheart. I love you,” Jack said, snickering quietly at the screwed-up face of disgust Angel wore.

“Night, Daddy, love you more,” she said as Jack closed the door. He leaned against her door briefly and wondered why they had to grow up so stinking fast.

Jack strode into the kitchen to grab his ECHO before heading into his home office and shutting the door behind him. Connecting the ECHO to his terminal he said, “Report.”

“Fuck, Jack,” Nisha said.

“Language! Just give me the report, cupcake. How did all of you screw up a milk run? Do you at least still have the package and can you get it delivered to Opportunity?” Jack said, bringing up ECHO news feeds regarding the bridge outage and train crash. Terrorist trash!

“You’re not even going to ask how we are? Fuck. Someone bombed the bridge causing the train to crash. The package is still in our possession. Is that all that matters to you? Fuck you, Jack. Wil is dead.”

Jack stopped typing and his breathing slowed as he felt a heavy coil of something cold wrap around his hands and chest. He said very carefully, “Repeat what you just said, cupcake.”

“FUCK! YOU! JACK! Wil is dead. He was in one of the train cars that went over the gorge. The authorities only just pulled his body from the wreckage twenty minutes ago.”

“Why the fuck did it take so long for any of you to call me? Huh, Nish? Explain to me why I’m only hearing about this now when the train crashed over four hours ago. How does the fucking news know about this before I do?” Jack pulled a cushion off the loveseat in the corner and pushed it to his face, screaming into it so as not to wake Angel back up again. He pulled a knife from his desk drawer and drove it several inches into his desk picturing the gunslinger’s skull in his head. Nisha nattered irritatingly on about something to do with middle of nowhere and not having access to their baggage to retrieve the satellite phone before now. There had been a time a couple years ago when he and Nish had tried to make a go of something, but they’d both gotten tired of each other’s alpha posturing and broke it off. They managed to at least retain an antagonistic working relationship, for which Jack was grateful. She was one of his best agents, even if she was an absolute bitch.

“Jack, they’ve got shuttles that are going to route us to Opportunity, so we can deliver the package, since that seems to be all you’re concerned about. We’ll get the fucking job done, asshole.”

He heard a click on the other end. “Don’t you hang up on me, you bitch. Don’t you dare disconnect me,” Jack hissed into the ECHO.

“Jack,” the mournfully weary voice of his brother came back on the line. “Don’t be upset with her. They were close.” Tim sighed heavily into the ECHO. “Jack, someone needs to contact Wil’s bond-mate.”

Bond-mate? Since when did that huge burly alpha have a bond-mate? Jack must have said this last thought out loud, because Tim responded, “They were bonded six months ago, Jack. You were invited to the reception but deigned not to attend.”

“You know I hate those things, Timtam.”

“Yeah, but how did you not know your supposed ‘best friend’ was even bonded, Jack?” He could hear Tim’s sneer and air quotes through the ECHO. “How did you not know he was even seeing anyone? It’s all he could ever talk about.”

Wil never talked about anything with Jack. On an op, especially in a fight, Wil wouldn’t shut up. But outside of that he was exceptionally quiet, not shy, just kept to himself. He’d drink a beer with Jack, and not say a word for hours beyond some grunting and nods and “hey, another beer?”. Jack had always liked that about Wil since it had made him extremely easy to hang out with and there had been no expectation of deep or even shallow conversation.

“Wil bagged an omega?” Well, that would explain why Wil had started to smell so good recently, like cherry blossoms and frankincense.

“They met at an amputee support group about three years ago,” Tim continued. “Three years, Jack. How is all of this new to you?”

Three years ago. That’s about the time Jack’s own bond match was disintegrating, and he’d been left alone to care for a two-year-old daughter. He’d been busy burying himself in work to get Hyperion Security off the ground and doing his best as a single parent. Wil had always let Jack be quiet, showing support without all the ‘so sorry about your broken bond’ or ‘think you’ll date again’ or ‘are you managing okay as a single dad’ and all the other sympathetic pity crap he had to deal with from everyone else.

“Shut up, Tim. You know what was going on three years ago,” Jack warned.

“I can’t talk about this with you right now, Jack. Fuck. I can call Rhys if you aren’t able to get your head out of your ass for one minute to do the right thing. The professional thing. As Wil’s boss, Jack,” Tim said barely containing a choking sob at the end of his tirade.

“Language, Tim! I’ll do it,” Jack growled out. He stood up and disconnected the ECHO as his chest got tighter and his breathing more difficult. Wil was dead. He needed to call his secretary, Meg. He needed to call Wil’s bond-mate, what had Tim said her name was, Reece, Rice, Rosa? He needed to tell his daughter that Uncle Wil wouldn’t be able to see her anymore. He needed to…stop the room from tilting.

* * *

“DADDY WAKE UP! DADDY! WAKE! UP!”

As Jack began to swim up out of a tar black darkness, he could hear his daughter screaming something and her terrified scent was blooming around him. He rolled on the floor toward her voice and pulled her into his arms while growling out at whoever was threatening his precious Angel. He rubbed his chin over her head to scent her in an attempt to soothe her even as his aggressive pheromones pushed into the room to deter any attacker.

“Daddy,” Angel said with a wet sniffle. “You fell down and wouldn’t wake up.”

“Oh, baby, I’m sorry,” he said into her hair. “I think I was very tired.”

What had happened? Last he remembered he’d been getting scolded by his brother to call someone about something. As he thought about it, the conversation became clear. Wil had died on the last op.

“Shit,” he muttered as his eyesight got a bit blurry and his throat tightened. He wanted to throw things and break things and punch things, and all that would have to wait until he was no longer holding Angel.

“That’s a bad word, Daddy,” his daughter admonished as Jack sat them up against a wall.

“Yeah, it is, pumpkin,” Jack said hoarsely, squeezing Angel a little tighter. “And don’t you ever say it.”

She pushed him away a little bit to look at his face. “Daddy, what’s wrong? You smell sad.”

“Daddy got some bad news, Angel. Really bad news. The worst news,” he said quietly, feeling the tears roll out of his eyes. How was he going to explain this to her? She loved Wil fiercely, always making him drawings with extra emphasis on the burly man’s prosthetics.

“You can talk about it with me, Daddy. Like when you make me tell you my bad news, you can tell me your bad news and it will be better,” she said as she put her hands on his cheeks in mimicry of all the times he’d done this to her, wiping away a couple of his tears with her thumbs, her wide blue eyes as vivid as the sky at the height of summer. “It will be okay, Daddy. You can talk to me about anything and I will fix it.”

Jack tilted his forehead to hers and breathed in and out a few times, gathering her scent to him to keep from shambling apart. “Sweetie, you are the most precious girl alive anywhere in any universe.”

“Tell me your bad news, Daddy, so you won’t be sad anymore,” Angel said quietly, patting his cheek.

Jack leaned over and kissed his daughter’s forehead and let out the breath he’d been holding. “Uncle Wil got hurt in an accident and he died, pumpkin. We won’t be able to see him again.”

“Oh,” she said, and pulled out of Jack’s arms. “I need to draw Aunt Rhys a picture.”

“OK, pumpkin, if you think that’ll help,” Jack said bewildered as he watched his daughter leave his office. He stayed on the floor for a few moments then pulled his ECHO off his desk and looked at the time. 2:45am. He hit ‘secretary’ on his contact list and waited for an answer.

“Good morning, Jack,” a dulcet voice came over the ECHO.

“Wil’s dead and I need to call his next of kin. Can you get me the number, pumpkin?” Jack deadpanned.

“What?” Meg cried. “Wil’s dead? How? What happened?”

“Train wreck, princess. I need that number, Meg. Chop chop,” Jack said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I need to call Wil’s sweet loving omega bond-mate to let her know what happened before she finds out on the news.”

“Yes, Jack. Here’s the number,” Meg said as she rattled off the ECHO ID. “But Rhys isn’t a wo…”

“Thanks, hon. We’ll talk later about Wil’s life insurance and death benefits, yaddy yaddy, gotta go,” Jack said writing the number down, and hung up.

He needed to be kind and professional with this one. Like a gentle grenade that tells Wil’s bond-mate that her favorite person just died…. Just gotta pull the pin and throw the grenade and wait for the boom. Jack punched the number into his ECHO and waited for an answer.

“Mmm, hello?” came a sleepy baritone over the ECHO.

“Yeah, I’m looking for Rissa, the bond-mate of Wilhelm Klaus,” Jack said as he tried to pull the knife out of his desk. Huh, he’d gotten that in there pretty deep, hadn’t he.

“Oh, um, yes, this is Rhys, can I help you?” the all too much like gravelly chocolate voice asked.

“I’m calling about an urgent matter, princess. Can you go get her?” Jack asked.

“Her who? Who the hell is this?” the voice clipped out, and Jack could hear the rustling of sheets in the background.

“Wil’s bond-mate, who do you think, sweet cheeks,” Jack said through clenched teeth while spreading his fingers out to lean over his desk. Who the heck was this guy? “So, if you could hurry it up and get her, dumdum, I’d like to get on with the rest of my business.”

“Listen, jerkface, I’m Wil’s bond-mate. Who the fuck are you waking me up at at at 3am?” the now chocolate covered steel voice gritted out.

Wow. This was so not what Jack was expecting. Given most of the women he’d seen Wil chatting up in bars when they were younger, he thought he’d be getting sweet feminine tones, not this punch in the gut attitude with the delicious voice. Well, this call still needed to be done. Jack took a deep breath and cleared his throat, ignoring the squeezing feeling in his chest, and threw on his business persona. He’d already told Angel, so the worst was over.

“This is Jack Lawrence from Hyperion Security. I regret to inform you that while performing his duties this evening, Wilhelm Klaus lost his life in a train accident just outside Thousand Cuts. Our investigation will be on-going into the matter and we will keep you as informed as we are able as to the exact cause of the accident. We will be available to assist you in any way we can during this time of grief. Wil was a stellar employee and a beloved friend. We are all sorry for your loss,” Jack said managing to keep any of the hitching breaths out of his voice. And hey, that sounded pretty good. He hadn’t even needed a script for it.

“Is this a joke?” the now brittle voice on the other end asked after a pause.

“What?” Jack replied.

“If this is a joke or some insurance scam, I will gut you like a rabbit and mount your carcass on a pike in my yard. Do not test me,” the voice continued, dripping with the kind of menace Jack usually only heard coming from his own mouth. He was a bit in awe. This was Wil’s bond-mate? “I know you voice modulated spammers think you’re so so so so hilarious calling up someone to tell them a loved one died but, I will not be toyed with. I am tracing this call as we speak, and when I find you, I will flay you alive and send bits of your skin to all your loved ones. You will regret the day you ever tried to mess with Rhys Strongfork. There is nothing I won’t do to…. won’t do…. to…. waitwaitwait, this can’t be right.”

Wow, that was probably one of the most spectacular things Jack had ever heard anyone say outside of his own diatribes. Who was this man? Strongfork, why was that name so familiar? Jack was certain he knew it from somewhere. It was going to needle at him until he figured it out, but he didn’t have time for that right now. As Rhys wound down from his amazing threats, Jack put his hand over his own mouth to keep from saying an entirely inappropriate, 'Hey, sexy, you threaten all the alpha’s like that?' At least he didn’t need to ask for the man’s number, wow… No, this was Wil’s widow. Just no. Not happening. Ever. Jack would admit he wasn’t all that ethically inclined, but there were limits.

“Is this? Is this really Jack Lawrence from Hyperion?” Rhys asked tentatively with a slight hiccup.

“Yes, I’m sorry,” Jack coughed out.

“So, Wil is really… No. Nononononono. Oh no. My Wil, what am I supposed to do?” the man cut off with a wail and a sob and Jack heard a clatter of something metal hitting something. Maybe he should have done this in person instead of over the ECHO. At least in person he’d have the scent markers to guide him. Listening to another man weep was decidedly awkward and Jack wasn’t sure what he should be doing right now.

“Do you need someone to come be with you, Mr. Strongfork? I can call for someone to come by your house if you don’t want to be alone at this time,” Jack said as gently as he could.

“No, it’s fine,” Rhys said between sniffles. “I need to go now. Thank you for letting me know,” and Jack heard the call disconnect.


	2. The funeral

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack and his entourage attend Wil's memorial service.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Physical violence

“You are going! You owe this to Wil,” Nisha stated as she glared stiletto spikes into the top of Jack’s head. He glanced up over the top of his monitor, feigned boredom awash over his features, before looking back down and continuing to type. Everyone knew he didn’t do bondings or funerals. He wasn’t about to start now. They were boring as hell and he was a busy man. Besides, he needed to get this freelance contract approved by the end of the day or he might lose another agent. Who waits a month after a death to have a memorial service anyway?

“Darling, Nisha has a point,” Aurelia and Nisha stood next to each other inside Jack’s home office doorway with identical forbidding expressions. Both were wearing black, but they were a complete dichotomy of style. Aurelia, her white hair coifed elegantly, and dark skin dusted to highlight eyes and cheeks, looked as if she were about to call for the champagne at a garden party, complete with patton leather heels and a wide brimmed veiled hat. Nisha, dark hair down and olive skin freshly cleaned, appeared to be ready to jump on a bull at a rodeo, with her black chaps, boots, and Stetson.

“Daddy!” came a stern command from behind Nisha. “Get dressed!”

Jack peered down at his own Hyperion Security t-shirt and yellow sleep pants. “I am dressed, sweet pea,” he smirked as Angel pushed her way into Jack’s office with a thunderous look on her five-year-old face. She pointed her finger at him and then waggled it. With her own mary janes, black frock, and wide brimmed hat, she almost looked like a miniature Aurelia, which was more than disconcerting.

“I put clothes out for you,” his daughter announced sternly. “We are going to go say goodbye to Uncle Wil. This is imported!!”

Jack signaled for Angel to climb up into his lap, which she promptly did. “Important, honey. The word is ‘important’,” he said with a sigh, his chin marking his scent along her shoulder. “If it’s this important to you, I’ll go. For you. But I won’t promise to be happy.”

“Fun reals aren’t happy, Daddy,” Angel huffed and crossed her arms. This kid. Even if she presented as omega when she hit puberty, she was going to be fierce. He caught the smug glances that passed between Nisha and Aurelia and frowned.

“Okay, sweetheart, let me finish up this work, and then I’ll go look at what clothes I’ll be wearing,” Jack said, kissing the back of her neck. “Just give me a few minutes. Why don’t you take Aurelia with you so she can see if the clothes are appropriate?”

Angel nodded and hopped out of his lap, grabbing Aurelia’s hand on her way out of the office.

“Jack, what’s going on?” Nisha asked, her arms crossed over her chest.

“Atlas Systems,” he said, slamming his hands on the desk, well aware that his anger scent was rolling out into the room.

“The tech securities firm? Hyperion’s biggest software competitor?”

“The very one. In the last month since Wil’s death, they’ve started making forays into merc work. I’ve lost a couple good agents and had to give raises to another few. Filthy traitors.”

“I knew they had their own security force, but not that they were taking outside contracts. Who’d we lose?” she asked while moving around to Jack’s side of the desk and plopping her butt on the corner.

“From our premier teams? Zero and Lorelei are gone. Fiona, Sasha, and August had been approached, and threatened to leave us unless I handed over a five year pay raise increase plan with severance clauses. HR is still working on those. I could care less about the lower level teams. There are always more grunts who want jobs. But specialists are hard to find.” Jack said between gritted teeth.

“What about Zero?” Tim said, peering into the office. He’d look better in his tailored black suit if his hair wasn’t still completely mussed and mismatched eyes weren’t constantly rimmed in red. Jack’s twin had spent the last month carrying around a scent of defeat that Jack wanted to kick or punch it out of him.

“They left us for Atlas,” Nisha said turning to Tim.

“Oh? Good for them!” Tim said with a cheerily shy grin. Without warning, Jack growled and launched over his desk, knocking the monitor to the floor, and crashing his fist down onto Tim’s nose as he landed.

“’Good for them,’ Timtam?” Jack snarled. “This is our business, dumdum, and we’re losing employees! We can’t just go out and buy trained specialists at the dollar store, Timmy.”

“Fuck, Jack! You broke my nose!” Tim wailed, blood dripping onto his pristine white dress shirt.

“Language! Nish, take this idiot and fix him up and get him a new shirt,” Jack demanded, then swept out of the room to go clean his knuckles off and get dressed.

He entered his bedroom to a strange image. Aurelia and Angel, side by side, both with hips cocked and a thoughtful finger on their mouths, looking at the layout of clothing on the bed.

“What do you think, dearest?” Aurelia asked with an amused lilt to her voice.

“Perfection, darling,” Angel responded in the same cadence. He knew that Angel loved to play dress up dolls with Aurelia, and the blasted woman was always finding the most outlandish clothes for Angel’s set of dolls. Jack glanced down at the bed to see what he was going to be wearing to Wil’s funeral and wilted. Black sweater, black long-sleeved collared shirt with tails, black suit vest, black tuxedo jacket, black jeans, and his solid black high-top Chuck Taylors. And a large hexagonal broach left to him by his grandmother. He hated that damned thing, but Angel loved it, so he would wear it. He sulked into the bathroom and decided a quick shower was for the best to remove some of the stale anger stench from his person.

* * *

The parking lot at the memorial home was almost completely full and Jack was fuming. Don’t these people have jobs, or lives, or homes, or something? How could this many people know Wil? Once they had finally parked, Jack found the sporty red car that had cut them off from a prime parking spot and put his knife through two of the tires before he felt satisfied. As he stood up, he caught Angel watching him, and grimaced at the guilt of being a bad example for his daughter.

“Honey, don’t you ever do something like that,” he said, and took her hand from Nisha.

“Okay, Daddy,” Angel replied. “Can I have my color book?”

“Sure, pumpkin,” Jack said, gesturing behind him for Tim to hand him Angel’s roller bag as they made their way into the building.

Everything inside was some version of gray. Boredom gray wallpaper, ennui gray carpeting, listless gray chairs. And all the people were in varying shades of black. The only color he could see were the small oases of yellow from the sunflower bouquets that decorated various nooks and corners in the entry hallway. Fortunately, the memorial home appeared to have a top-grade air filter. Jack could barely discern any scent in the air, and with the number of people milling around chattering, that was surprising. He expected to smell various shades of grief and sorrow, and it was still there, but he had to concentrate to catch the scents.

“Daddy, can I write on the book?” Angel pointed to a small podium with a sign that said, ‘Please sign into the guest registry’. There was an open book on it with a large pen next to it. Jack watched as a couple approached and scrawled something into it.

“Sure, princess. Anything you want,” Jack said, hoisting her up so she was able to reach. Angel penned a fairly large ‘ANGeL’ onto the open page and handed the pen to Jack before squirming down to the floor. Jack wrote his own ‘Jack Lawrence’ with a flourish directly underneath Angel’s. Both of their writings took up a single page, and Jack smirked to himself.

Ushers came to direct everyone into the memorial room, and Jack sat in the back row. There were more people here than he’d thought would be. Over one hundred when he stopped counting. How did Wil know this many people? Oh, he hated these things. Hated the sickening crawl of sadness every time his mind dwelled on Wil’s death for more than a few seconds. Hated having to say goodbye for the last time to one of the best men he’d ever know. Hated being reminded that Wil wasn’t going to just pop around the corner with a couple beers in his hand. Hated all the people milling around mouthing insincere condolences that would mean nothing a week, a month, a year from now.

Angel sat backwards on the floor next to Jack, her face screwed up in concentration as she used her chair seat as a desk to color in her coloring book. Once everyone was seated, Jack began to tune out all the blah blah of the proceedings, it was the only way he was going to get through this without strangling someone or stabbing them. Aurelia’s stoicism, Nisha’s fuming anger, and Tim’s sobs were quiet enough during the ceremony that Jack could concentrate on other things. He needed to figure out how to retain his myriad of crews and stop Atlas from encroaching where it didn’t belong. He needed to put some pressure on the investigators to find out what the heck had happened on that train. He needed to reschedule Angel’s summer school since she had been adamant that she was not going to the classes and had insisted she must be in the office with him, both at home and at corporate, while he worked, no matter how much cajoling Jack did. She would begin to get a stomach ache anytime he even suggested otherwise. And there had been some strange discrepancies in the marketing department’s accounts that he’d need to go over before approving their quarterly budget. He started making notes in his Echo.

Jack’s thoughts ran even further afield as the rites went on. He should look into a new weapons supplier since Torgue had flaked out and lost their order for the third time. Maybe Jakobs? Or Tediore? Maybe he should just bite the bullet so to speak and grab the rest of those Dahl arms division shares in a silent takeover and have Hyperion go into weapons manufacturing themselves. It could be a financially strategic move. He’d call his acquisitions team as soon as they were done here to see what it would take.

He also needed to figure out what they were going to do without Wil. He had let HR deal with all the paperwork and insurance, etc, only signing his name on some random ‘our sympathies for your loss’ card that he supposed went to Wil’s bond-mate. Jack made note to himself to look at some of the rosters when he got back to the office to see if any of the teams had stand out members that might work well with the premier black-ops team. It would have to be someone who could rein in Aurelia’s disinterest and Nisha’s insanity while still being a soft touch for Tim.

“Oh, poor Rhys,” Tim choked out next to Jack, handkerchief dabbing watery eyes. Okay, maybe a bit more of a hard touch was needed.

“Thank you all for coming today,” a weary voice spoke from the front of the room. Jack recognized that voice. It was the man from the phone call a month ago. Wil’s bond-mate. The voice was wrong, though, there was no fire or spark in it. Instead of chocolate and steel, it was like withered leaves and ice-cold wind. Jack looked up to see the owner of the voice and felt like all the air was kicked out of his chest. The man was, well, good looking didn’t cover it. Dressed in a simple, but perfectly tailored black suit, his brown hair was slicked back with a little too much product. Tall, with broad shoulders and legs that went on forever. Legs, good heavens above, LEGS! Lanky and muscular, like a runner or swimmer, if the contours of the exquisitely cut slacks were any indication. His eyes were mismatched, a whiskey brown and a light ice blue that reminded Jack of the glaciers near Three Horns. The man waived his hands while speaking and one of them appeared to have some kind of red metallic glove on it. Wait…hold on….Cupcake had a prosthetic hand! It seemed a bit more advanced than any of Wil’s had been. That was a bit badass! Tim had said that Wil and his bond-mate had met at an amputee’s support group, or something, hadn’t he?

“I could… I could tell you facts about Wil, but I won’t. The obituary has all of those, and it doesn’t tell you who he was,” the beautiful man began.

“Wil was kind. The first time we met was my first meeting with the amputee support group,” Rhys raised his weird red chrome hand and pointed with it at his blue eye. “He didn’t say a word, didn’t smile, didn’t really do anything, didn’t even talk in the meeting. He just… He just handed me a coffee and sat down. The coffee was pretty terrible. He didn’t hand anyone else a coffee, though. Just me. Every meeting for two months…. Then he invited me out for better coffee. I I I don’t know if I can do this.” Rhys stepped away from the podium and began to crumple, and Jack caught himself before he rose to his feet. By the shuffling around in the room, several others were considering jumping up to aid the omega as well.

Jack watched a short, bearded, sun-dappled brunette with ridiculous glasses and a high end tuxedo walk up and take Rhys’s hand and mutter something to him. Who did this asshole think he was? Wil had only been dead a month and this corporate looking bandit swoops in?

A gasp came from Jack's side. "Is that Vaughn King?" Tim asked in a hushed whisper, Aurelia letting out a hum of confirmation.

"Who cares?" Nisha interjected quietly.

“Daddy,” Angel whispered next to him while poking his leg with her crayon. “Stop growling. Rhys is trying to talk.”

Jack ignored his idiot brother and friends and grinned at Angel, rubbing his hand over her ear, which she responded to by throwing him a glacial glare and slapping at his hand. Cupcake had finished talking with Short Stack and was clearing his throat into the microphone.

“Sorry, everyone, sorry. This is difficult. Um. Soooo, Wil. He was… He was… He would tell the worst jokes,” the grieving man said with a fond watery laugh. “They were always jokes his boss told him. And he would laugh so hard he would tip out of his chair. The jokes were awful, truly terrible, but his laugh was so infectious it was hard to keep from laughing with him. And I won’t get to hear him laugh again. Damn it!”

Jack watched Rhys pound his flesh hand on the podium, and felt his chest get tight and his throat close up a little. He knew those jokes. They were horrible, and wonderful. He told those jokes to Wil, and it would take sometimes fifteen or twenty minutes for the man to stop snickering. Nothing was more hilarious than a helplessly giggling apex alpha. Nothing in this universe. Jack felt a small hand sneak its way into his as Rhys went on lauding his bond-mate.

“Don’t cry, Daddy,” Angel whispered as she reached up to wipe at his face with her other hand. “As long as we member him in our heart, he’s not really gone.”

Now where had his sweet girl heard that nonsense? Probably from Uncle Tim. Jack pulled her up into his lap and placed his chin on her head. Gone was gone, that’s why Jack tried so hard to protect those few that he loved. It was why he needed to find out who killed Wil and make them suffer. No one messed with his people.

There was a loud crash from the front of the room and Angel jumped in his lap. Rhys had slammed the podium with his metal hand, smashing it into a pile of lumber. Everyone was holding their breath as the man glared out at all present. His eyes flashed like titanium and Jack all at once fully understood how Wil would be captured by such a force of nature. Jack wanted to be captured. He’d bet that most of the alphas in the room would want to be. Rhysie was magnificent!

“I will find out who did this to my alpha,” Rhys growled menacingly low, pointing to various people in the seated crowd, and Jack felt an electric jolt raise his hackles as he held Angel tighter and instinctively rubbed his chin over her hair, trying to get his scent on her as protection from the insane man at the front of the room. “I will find them, and I will let them watch as I slowly strip the flesh from the bones of their loved ones and feed it to my pet skags.”

“Thank you for coming,” Short Stack said, pulling the microphone away from the raging omega. Jack watched calculatingly as the itty bitty man slowly yanked Rhys from the room, the taller man having broken out into disconsolate weeping.

“Daddy, you’re squeezing too tight,” Angel wheezed and squirmed. Jack loosened his arms but still kept his chin on her head.

“Angel, Daddy has an idea,” he whispered to his best girl. “What do you say we help Cupcake find who killed Uncle Wil and be heroes?”

“Where’s cupcakes?” she whispered back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently my fluff piece is getting plot. Hope you're still enjoying it!


	3. The Post Funeral Reception

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack and company head to the reception to offer their condolences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Some violence, some threats, some blood, some fluff

As he walked into the reception hall, Jack stopped to glance around. The place was nice, ritzy. He’d need to mention it to his HR team when the planning for the next company Mercenary Day party began. Muted but cheerful blues and greens decorated the walls, and it was fairly spacious with three visible open bars scattered throughout the room. Although, how it was filled with so many people for Wil’s memorial was anyone’s guess. Jack sniffed the air and frowned. For what was supposed to be a memorial reception, people were giving off rather normal scents. Where was the grief? His best friend was dead and everyone was acting like this was just a party.

Nisha threw out a low whistle next to him. “Fancy,” she said and headed directly to the closest bar, Aurelia following elegantly in her wake. Tim stood by looking ridiculous with the splint across his nose and grabbing some hors d'oeuvres from the circulating wait staff, stuffing them into his mouth. His brother started giddily rambling something about kings and red band underwear models and Jack wanted to punch him.

“Daddy, I need to go to the bathroom,” Angel said, pulling on Jack’s pant leg.

“Timmy, take Angel to the little ladies room,” Jack said dismissively. “And make sure she washes her hands.”

When the two had left, Jack moved to one of the standing tables near the rear of the room, his back to the wall so he could view all entrances. Nisha and Aurelia joined him with their drinks, whiskey neat and a dark red wine respectively. The cowgirl also plopped down something pink and frufru looking in front of Jack.

“What the hell is this?” Jack asked sniffing the drink. It smelled like cherry flavored hard candies, cocoa, and cream.

“Dunno,” she said, throwing back her whiskey and hissing. “It was the sweetest thing they could make.”

Jack took a sip. It tasted like that black forest cake. He loved that cake!

“I’ve been thinking about the roster problem,” Nisha said, grabbing a full tray of what appeared to be tiny meat pies from one of the waiters and dropping it in the middle of the table. “There are a few people I might be able to work with, if they don’t fuck up.”

“I’m going to cut that tongue out of your face if you keep cussing where Angel might hear,” Jack muttered into the now empty cocktail glass before running a finger through the swirled chocolate syrup dregs.

The gunslinger rolled her eyes before continuing, “I was thinking Salvador.”

“No,” Jack glared at her. His shirt felt tight across his chest, the drink now settling sourly in his stomach.

“Listen, he’s….”

“No!” Jack stated again, slamming the cocktail glass down on the table and breaking it off the stem. “I am not discussing Wil’s replacement with you at Wil’s funeral.”

The two alphas had pushed back from the table, bristling and snarling at each other, when both felt something snap briefly on each of their noses.

“Cease this immediately,” Aurelia said, returning her fan to her clutch bag. “You are not causing a spectacle here, I won’t allow it.”

Jack returned to the table with a sulk, and Nisha huffed and walked away.

“Darling, I know you miss him, we all do, but you must consider…” the elegant woman said.

“I’m gonna stop you right there, sweetcheeks,” Jack said. “Go mingle…. Now.”

Aurelia gave him a pitying glance, but left him all the same. He slouched over, placing his elbows on the table and leaned his head into his hands. Everything was both so loud and so silent recently. Wil had been a quiet guy, but Jack knew he was there. Now, he was gone, and everything was just….empty. Who would listen to his daily gripes? Or his rambles about his amazing daughter? Or his jokes? It was all noise and no one to be a sounding board to help him make sense of anything. The scents in this room full of people who were only here for the drinks and hors d'oeuvres and not to grieve over his friend were causing a churn in his chest that he knew would result in someone being literally ripped apart, or shot. And he didn’t want Angel to see that.

Jack’s eye caught a small group walking in.

“The Katagawa’s?” he muttered to himself. “What is Maliwan doing here?” He glanced around and spied a grizzled woman in a worn military dress uniform near one of the other bars. “Vladof?” Torgue was there, as well. And Anshin. What the hell was happening? How were all these people here for Wil’s memorial? None of this was making any sense. Then he caught sight of a gentleman whose extravagant pompadour was clearly meant to hide the balding spot on the top of his head. “Jakobs!? Why is Jakobs here? What the hell is going on? It’s like a securities and arms convention. Wait, is that Alistair Hammerlock standing with Jakobs? Does Aurelia know he’s here?” He knew of the animosity between the siblings.

“Yeah, she knows. ‘But a lady does not disrupt a funeral, no matter how distasteful the company attending.’” Tim said from Jack’s left, his voice a terrible mimic of Aurelia’s. “Why is your hand bleeding?”

Jack scowled down at his palm. The broken cocktail glass must have nicked it, as he could see a pool of blood trickling onto the table where he’d been standing.

“Daddy, can I play games on the ECHO?” Angel asked from under the table, having already pulled Jack’s ECHO out of his jacket pocket. The little sneak.

“Timmy, get her set up?” Jack asked. “I’m going to go take care of this.”

“Sure, Jack,” his brother said and crouched down to Angel. “Which game do you want to play, peanut?”

Jack turned to leave the table when he was accosted by two lanky arms wrapping around his neck and a slender body being pressed into him.

“Timothy, I’m so glad you came,” a husky voice whispered into his ear, and Jack wrapped his own arms around the form instinctively. He scented the other person briefly, catching the sinus burning astringency of bonded omega along with the sour scent of grief and loss, but underlying it all was cherry blossoms, frankincense, and fresh baked bread. Whoever this was, they smelled of home and hearth and all the things Jack had never been allowed to hold and keep. He didn’t want to let go. The alpha in him wanted to bathe and frolic in the scent until it was soaked into his skin and then fall asleep in these arms. Jack was so tired, had been for the last month, and this was rest.

Taking a deeper breath, Jack pulled the lithe body a little closer before letting his own form relax fully into the embrace, rubbing his hands up and down their back. He felt the other person stiffen briefly, before they let out a choked sigh and leaned further into Jack, tiny sobs occasionally shaking them. They may have stood there for seconds, minutes… days. Unconsciously, Jack tilted his head slightly and briefly brushed his chin and cheeks down the other’s neck, scent marking them in an attempt to soothe and ease. As soon as he recognized what he’d done, he stopped, but it was enough to break him out of the moment. He didn’t care that he’d been scent marking a bonded omega, but he really didn’t want to have to kill some affronted alpha bond-mate today, not at Wil’s memorial.

“Fuck,” whispered a chocolatey voice into Jack’s ear. “You’re not Timothy, are you?”

“Language, kitten. No, I am not,” Jack answered back with a grin as he recognized that rich voice and pulled back to look at Rhys’s tear stained face. He found he was just barely shorter than the omega in his arms, most likely due to those exquisite legs. The red rimmed brown and blue eyes looked back at him, a goofy lost look wandering over the omega’s face before it twisted into a sneer. Intriguingly, the blue eye wasn’t real. Was that an ECHOeye? Holy shit! How had he never met this man before now? “You can call me Jack, Princess.”

“Let go of me this instant, Mr. Lawrence, or I will… I will,” Rhys threatened venomously.

“Yes, Pumpkin?” Jack asked, still holding onto the other man and grinning wider.

“I will electrocute your balls before ripping them from your body,” Rhys hissed. Jack felt movement near his thigh and glanced down to see a metal hand closing in palm up toward his delicate bits, and his grin deepened further. Well, this was enlightening.

“Kinky,” Jack responded smoothly, and released the fascinating omega. “Maybe some other time, Cupcake. Don’t you have a party going on at the moment?”

“There you are!” came a shout nearby. Both men turned to see Short Stack coming toward them. “I thought you were going to hide in the bathroom forever. The Katagawa’s just got here and were asking to offer their condolences.”

“I’m fine, bro,” Rhys said to his friend. Jack watched the omega wilt and the pungent scent of grief began wafting all around Cupcake and Jack wanted to punch someone, maybe even Wil for dying and causing this man’s sorrow. “I just… I just needed…. I don’t….”

Everyone jumped to the sound of a large bang nearby and turned to see Timothy rubbing at the back of his head with one hand and trying to keep the table from toppling with the other.

“Oh,” Timtam said, eyes wide as saucers staring at Short Stack. “You’re Vaughn King. Red band underwear model, Vaughn King. Oh, hi. I’m Hyperion Security co-CEO, Limothy Torrence. I mean, Timothy Lawrence. Wow. You look good even with your clothes on. Not that you don’t look good with clothes off. In the magazine photos, I mean. I’ve never seen you with clothes off otherwise. Oh geeze. So, how are you doing….kiddo?” Then Tim threw in some finger guns and Jack could have killed him right there and never regretted it for a moment.

Jack rolled his eyes as Short Stack stood a little taller and preened, a simple scent of pleased omega whisped into the air. Another omega. He relaxed slightly, as this man was no threat to his claim over Cupcake. WHAT? No, nope. There was no claiming anyone, no matter how much his interior alpha was screaming at him to hold Cupcake again. While he was in the midst of trying to disengage his instincts from the situation, Jack felt his hand grabbed and looked to see Rhys holding it in his metal hand, studying it with a frown. “Why is your hand bleeding?” the omega said with seething anger.

“I had a dalliance with a cocktail glass, it fought dirty,” Jack said with wink and a cheeky grin and tried to pull his hand back. Rhys only gripped tighter, baring his teeth, menacingly growling, and Jack almost dropped his grin in surprise. The omega’s hand was like a vice, and Jack wanted that hand gripping other places. Jack shook his head. No, no he didn’t. This was Wil’s widow, and he needed to stop flirting with this man, no matter how much his interior alpha was screaming at him to hold Cupcake again.

“Fucking knotheads, every single damned time,” Rhys muttered and Jack was unceremoniously pulled from the reception room down the hall and into a small restroom. The omega pushed Jack’s hand into a sink and started washing out the wound, growling the entire time, then spun Jack around to face him and pulled what appeared to be a small med kit from his pocket.

“Think you can just bleed all over everything all the time and no one would notice. Shithead alpha, always trying to prove something, it’s ridiculous. Molesting people and bleeding all over them,” Cupcake kept murmuring lividly, digging in the med kit and slamming some anti-bacterial spray and bandages on the counter.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, there, pumpkin,” Jack protested, trying to unsuccessfully retrieve his hand from the metal grip. He was certain he was going to have bruises later. “Handsome Jack does not molest anyone without their explicit consent, and you hugged me first, sweetness.”

“Stop! Talking!” Rhys snarled looking down at Jack’s hand, teeth gritted with small bits of spit flying out. He rubbed some kind of cream on Jack’s wound, unnecessarily hard, and Jack winced slightly, but stopped trying to pull away. “Stupid idiot, you’re like a fucking child, standing there like nothing is wrong while making a bloody mess of everything. And who always has to clean it up. Me! I do. Because you’re a fucking moron, Wil, who can’t figure out how to keep from getting hurt all the damned time. You are unbelievably lucky that I love you. One of these days, you’re going to bleed out before I can get to you, and then where will you be, asshole.”

Jack stood helplessly still, mouth agape, as he listened to the omega hiss out what had probably been a common argument with Wil. He watched as realization washed over Rhys’s features and the omega carefully released Jack’s wrist and took a step back, shoulders slumping and shaking again in silent sobs.

“Fuck,” Rhys said, staring down at Jack’s shoes, tears dripping down to the tiled floor to make tiny splash patterns. “Everything reminds me of him. I miss him every day.”

“Me, too,” admitted Jack as he let his own grief wash over him and through him, scent rolling out to fill the room.

“My friends are trying to be supportive, but they don’t get it. And all those, those, those fucking people in there,” he rambled and pointed in the direction of the reception hall. “Hell, they’re circling like rakk’s, just waiting for a weakness they can exploit. And now I’m stupidly baring my soul to a complete stranger because he smells familiar, and it’s broken. I’m broken. I’m just so tired….all the time. I just, I just…”

“Shush, shhh,” Jack said reaching out to grip the other man on the shoulder, part to comfort, part to keep his distance at an arm’s length, his instincts screaming to soothe this distressed man whose sour grieving scent was burning into Jack’s sinuses. “I get it. You don’t need to prove or explain anything to me, pumpkin. I know what a disintegrating bond feels like.”

“Can I…. Would you?.... Shit,” Rhys stammered, shifting from foot to foot, not raising his eyes from the ground. “Can you hold me? Just for a little while? It was nice, before, you know, before I threatened to rip your knot off.”

“Sure thing, Cupcake,” Jack said, gently pulling the omega in close, letting himself relax once again into that scent of cherry blossoms and frankincense. “Whatever you need.”

They stood entwined for a time there in the restroom as Rhys slowly stopped shaking. Jack continued to rub his still unbandaged hand up and down the weeping man’s back, and brushed his chin over Rhys’s hair, marking his scent on the man’s head like he did with Angel when she was upset.

“You know,” Rhys said, leaning in as far as he could and sniffling into Jack’s shoulder. “You shouldn’t need to tell anyone that you’re handsome, they should already know by looking at you, I’m just saying.”

“Is that so?” Jack mused, just simply holding Rhys as he got himself composed. “Tell me, sweet cheeks, how have we never met before now?”

“I don’t know,” Rhys answered with a shrug, pulling back and moving to a sink to wash his face and neck. “Wil always called you his best friend….in spite of your terrible jokes. Larger than life. Handsome Jack, king of the security industry. Self-made man. All the magazines said so.”

“Hey, kiddo, those jokes were amazing,” Jack retorted, leaning back against the sink and crossing his arms petulantly over his chest.

“Wil always had some excuse for you,” Rhys continued, drying his hands and neck. “Out of town on business, too busy tied up with some venture or other, schmoozing a new contract. You are a businessman, makes you busy. Add single dad on top of that…” the omega shrugged again. “I trusted Wil, so I never felt the need to meet everyone he knew. I figured it would happen eventually, we’d be in the same place, and he’d introduce us.”

Jack saw the look of pain brush over Rhys’s features again before the omega tried to mask it with a calm complacency.

“Let’s get my hand bandaged up and get you back to your party, kitten,” Jack said grabbing the bandages and putting one of them on his wound.

“Fuck,” Rhys said, rubbing his hands over his face. “I don’t want to go back in there.”

“Well,” Jack said, a twinkle in his eye and a waggle of his eyebrows. “We could stay in here and be the cause of all sorts of salacious rumors. Handsome Jack getting it on with the pretty omega widow of his best friend at said best friend’s funeral? It would boost my reputation in certain sectors.”

He should have seen the slap coming as it echoed off the walls of the restroom.

“You are…you are such an asshole! Unbelievable! I just bared my soul to you and you’re making fucking jokes,” Rhys simmered, eyes flashing. “Who the fuck do you think you are?”

“I’m Handsome Jack Lawrence, kitten, and it wouldn’t do for my best friend’s omega to go into that room looking like a beaten-up kitten just asking for someone to take advantage,” Jack said darkly seething, rubbing at his cheek. He knew he’d have yet another bruise left on him by the feisty omega, but he’d made the insinuation with the purpose of this exact reaction. He invaded Rhys’s space without actually touching the man. “You’ve had your time in here, and now you need to stand up and do Wil proud. He chose you for a reason. You are going to get back out there, hold your head high, and own that room, princess. And if I ever hear you using that kind of language around my daughter, omega or no, best friend’s widow or no, I will carve your tongue out and serve it to you on a plate, with capers.”

Jack closed the door as he exited to the sound of several mirrors breaking and unintelligible shouting coming from the room behind him. He smiled. Cupcake was going to be alright for at least the rest of the reception, he’d made sure of that. He found another restroom to wash his own face and neck and straighten up his hair, then made his way back into the reception hall.

He spied Angel first, busy entertaining Short Stack, who was sitting on the ground back against one of the partition walls grinning. She was telling some engaging tale involving wide sweeping hand gestures and jumping about. Jack made his way to the bar to order another of that cake drink and returned to their table with a smug satisfaction when Angel completely lost interest in her tale and ran into his arms when he squatted down.

“Hey, sweet girl,” he said, doing a quick check over her to make sure she was still fine, before briefly scent marking her hair and letting her loose. He noticed that Short Stack’s hands were tied together terribly with a napkin and smirked. “Who’s your prisoner?”

“That’s the bandit king!” she said in a loud whisper, glancing coyly at Vaughn. “Uncle Tim said keep my eyes on him so I tied him up, like you taught me. But I don’t have any torture pillows.”

“Where’s the rest of your aunties and uncle, pumpkin?” Jack asked, sipping his drink.

“Mangling people,” she replied, returning to Vaughn’s side. “Auntie Auri said they were going to mangle people.”

Jack hmmmm’ed out a small chuckle and glanced around the room for his entourage. He spotted Nisha laughing amongst the Jakobs contingent, pounding heartily on the back of Wainwright Jakobs, probably trying to charm them into giving her some free pistols. She would always be a Jakobs girl, Jack knew. Aurelia was making small talk with the Katagawa’s. Katagawa Senior was smiling genially, but Junior was wearing a smarmy sneer and Jack frowned. Senior had approached Jack a couple times in the last few years regarding a merger or some kind of partnership, but Jack had held them off. The numbers in their offers were insultingly deceiving, and Jack was intelligent enough to know when he was being swindled. But both the Katagawa men were laughably naïve to think they could get anywhere with Aurelia. That woman was a shark among sharks, beta or not.

“Honey,” Jack said. “Where’s Uncle Tim?”

“Freshing Em up,” Angel replied, tying another napkin around her prisoner’s hands. “Told me to keep the bandit king here until he came back to terrorgate him.”

“You’re being surprisingly docile there, Short Stack,” Jack said, addressing the tiny man in the corner.

“Well, a pretty girl asked if she could tie me up…Sir,” Vaughn replied cheekily, raising his hands and winking at Angel. She giggled but Jack scowled instantly and moved in to threaten the short omega when the reception hall doors slammed open with a crash and the scent of furious omega rolled into the room. Rhys swaggered in, head high, hands loose and swinging at his sides. Jack watched, with a small….or maybe large amount of pride, as the grieving omega pulled a pistol out of his waistband and shot a bullet into the ceiling.

“The party is over,” Rhys stated. Then turned on his heels and left the room. Jack could smell the reception hall beginning to fill with alpha aggression and grabbed Angel’s backpack.

“Sweetheart, grab your prisoner. It’s time to go,” he said, as he motioned for Nisha and Aurelia to get moving. Jack ushered Angel and Vaughn out of the room swiftly. He could feel his own aggression rising and knew that he needed to get his daughter to safety before the bloodbath began. It was only a matter of time, and he could hear the snarls and hissing down the hall as they left.

“Get yourself untied and pick her up, Short Stack, or I’ll leave you behind,” Jack snarled.

“I have to find Rhys,” Vaughn objected, but still picked up Angel like she weighed as much as a tissue and didn’t break stride.

“Cupcake can take care of himself,” Jack said, opening the front doors and moving swiftly toward the car while digistructing his own pistol. Several people came out of the door behind him, including Timothy, who jogged quickly to catch up with Jack and digistructed an SMG to guard their rear. Say what he would about his twin, Jack knew that as incompetent as Tim was at life, he could always hold his own in a fire fight.

Once they reached the car, Jack unlocked and pulled open the back-seat door. “Get in the car and get her buckled in,” he demanded of Vaughn. Angel looked upset, but not scared, as Short Stack placed her into her car seat. His brave girl. He was going to shower her with ice cream and kisses when they got home. Jack and Tim guarded the car while keeping an eye out for any threats as others were streaming out of the reception hall into the parking lot.

Aurelia finally came out sauntering slowly as gunshots and screams rang into the air. She was dragging a recalcitrant Rhys behind her by the ear. Jack let out a little huff of relief at the sight. “Darling,” Jack heard her say coolly. “Stop resisting and things will go much easier for you. I’m trying to get you to safety as for some reason, Jack appears to have taken an interest in your wellbeing.” That damned woman could see far too much.

Nisha followed them out, shooting determinedly back into the hall and belting out an unstably gleeful laugh before making a run for the car.

“Everyone in. Lap up if you need to,” Jack said rounding the car and getting into the driver’s seat. Aurelia had shoved Rhys into the passenger side then slid in next to him, forcing Cupcake and his long legs to straddle the gear shift. Nisha had vaulted over the car to get in behind the driver’s seat and began rolling down the window while whooping with laughter. Tim pulled Vaughn into his lap while turning fifty shades of red and rambling apologies non-stop. Jack pulled the car out of the parking lot and began to drive away from the chaos, ignoring the little yelps from Rhys whenever he needed to shift gears.

“Jack!” Nisha cackled while firing off bullet after bullet at shooters who had exited the building. “Your new toy really knows how to throw a funeral! Ahahahahaha! Wil would have loved it!”

Both men turned to glared at her, then each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whooo, that was fun to write. I hope you enjoy reading it. If you have the time and/or inclination, let me know what you think. Kisses to all.


	4. The Bond Breaks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhys's bond breaks and Jack comes to the rescue, like the hero he is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Medical tragedies related to pregnancy. Please read end notes, this is not a happy fluffy chapter, but it is part of their tale.

Jack’s head rose from his desk when he heard a chirp on his ECHO, a piece of paper sticking to his cheek momentarily before he snatched it away and placed it back on the stack. He felt like his skin was too tight, and his mouth tasted of fuzz and the microwave skag burrito he’d eaten recently. It had taken the last two months since Wil’s memorial, but the merger with Dahl Weapons division was finally closing in three days. He hadn’t been home in at least a week, grudgingly grateful that Tim had agreed to keep Angel until this was all over. He was getting tired of using the office building’s locker room showers to keep himself clean and presentable for all the damned meetings. He was fairly certain he’d developed some kind of fungus on his feet due to the gross tile. He swiveled his chair toward his floor to ceiling wall to wall office window and peered owlishly out into the darkness at the moon hanging in the starlit sky.

Dahl’s legal team, and his own, had been hounding him for concessions and rescinded concessions, displaced worker opportunities and services, market share compensations, etc etc and so on and so forth and for the love of shits and giggles it took everything in him to not shoot all of these people outright and make a coup of it. Then there was also the board member wrangling and he’d begun planning their replacements within an hour of day one. He removed his hands from his hair, where they had climbed in without his permission, and turned to place them on his desk to help him stand. Grabbing one of the tasteless protein bars his secretary had left for him, he ate it in two bites and walked toward his private restroom.

The room consisted of a sink, a toilet, a mirror and some other minor Hyperion yellow décor his secretary had added. When this merger was complete, Jack had plans to knock out some walls and add a bedroom and ensuite bath to his office. If there were times he needed to stay here, he should do so in comfort. Jack finished his ablutions and looked at himself in the mirror. His blue and green eyes were extremely bloodshot, his skin sallow, his face beginning to show more than the shadow of a beard. He mused that he should commission a mask to wear to enable him to be handsome all the time. Well, nothing for it at the moment.

Jack walked back to his desk to check his calendar for today’s headaches and stopped short when he saw his ECHO flashing: 1:27 AM. What the ever living hell!? He had seventeen voicemails from Tim, several more from an unknown number, five from Nisha, and one from Aurelia. And more than sixty texts. All within the last twenty minutes.

He queued up the first few voicemails:

_From Tim: “Jack, Angel is safe, so don’t panic, it’s not her, but you need to call me back right away as soon as you get this. I need to talk to you. Call me. *beep*”_

_From Tim: “Jack, call me back. I know you’re busy but this is important *beep*”_

_From Tim: “Jack, are you ignoring me? I don’t know if he’s ignoring me. No, I know this is important. Yes, I’m trying. You go ahead and I’ll join you there in the morning when Angel is awake. Shit *beep*”_

_From Tim: “…….*incomprehensible mumbling*…..*sounds of clothing shuffling around*….*incomprehensible mumbling*…No sweetie, everything is fine. Go back to bed. Uncle Tim will find Buttstallion for you…..*sounds of clothing shuffling around*…..I love you, too, Angelcakes…..*shuffling*…..Yes, you can sleep here….*more mumbling*….will Daddy be back soon?....*shuffling*…Yes, sweetheart, now go to sleep, Uncle Vaughn is meeting us at the hospital tomorrow….*mumbling*….shit, the ECHO is on….bad words Uncle Timothy…*giggles* *beep*”_

_From Nisha: “Jackie, this is no time to have your head up your ass. Call me back or call your brother! *beep*”_

_From unknown: “Hello, Mr Lawrence. Um. This is Vaughn King….er…Angel’s prisoner from the memorial service? Something has happened and we could use your help. It’s rather urgent. Call as soon as you are able, sir *beep*”_

_From Aurelia: “Jack, darling, call your brother *beep*”_

Most of the rest of the voicemails continued along this same vein, as well as the messages, all within the last hour. What the hell was going on? What was so important they had to interrupt his work and sleep? Who the hell had been at Tim’s house while Angel was there? And what was that talk of a hospital visit?

Jack dialed Timtam and waited for an answer.

“Jack! Finally!” Tim exclaimed. “We’ve been trying to contact….”

“Get to the point, Timmy,” Jack growled, flipping his hair up out of his eyes.

“Rhys, hospital, dying,” Tim babbled. “Shhhh, Angel, it’s fine. Go back to sleep…. OK, fine, you can talk to your dad.”

“Hi Daddy,” Angel said, after taking the ECHO from her uncle.

“Hey sweetheart, why aren’t you asleep?” Jack asked, his voice softening considerably. He knew that she would sometimes get scared when she wasn’t sleeping in her own bed, especially after Wil passed. He had come across her and Tim curled up around each other many times. It was weirdly adorable.

“Uncle Tim is scared of Rhys. Uncle Vaughn said he’s sick. The hop-sittal is helping him,” she answered. Uncle Vaughn? Why the hell was Rhys in the hospital? Did he stub his toe or something?

“I’m sure he’s fine. Can you put your uncle back on, please? I love you, peanut.”

“I love you, Daddy,” she said, and the ECHO disconnected.

Well, shit. Jack knew he wasn’t going to get anything more coherent there, and Angel needed to sleep. He called Short Stack next.

“This is…” Vaughn answered sleepily.

“Yeah yeah, I know who you are, Short Stack,” Jack sneered, his stomach flip flopping in concern, which made him even more irritable. He ignored the incoming beep from the ECHO that was most likely Tim calling him back. “Talk to me about Rhysie and be concise.”

“Yes, sir,” Vaughn responded. “Rhys’s bond broke and he tried to follow it down. Luckily, his ECHO system has a medical alert alarm and contacted emergency services when his pulse dropped, but no one had seen or heard from him in at least five days. They were able to revive him but he’s not fully out of danger. They’re asking for an alpha that he trusts to help stabilize him. At first I thought of Tim, since he was closest, but he’s not able to leave his house because of Angel, and then I thought Yvette, but she’s out of the country in Eden-6 and can’t get out due to sunspot issues and shuttle cancellations, and then there was…”

“Stop! I said concise, kiddo, not recite me a soliloquy. Which hospital?” Jack commanded, agitated at the number of alphas that were considered before him. He knew how devastating bond breaks could be. While the mortality rate of bond breaks was extremely low nowadays due to modern medicine, deaths still occurred. They should have thought of him first! A person with a broken bond could occasionally be affected so deeply that they would need a familiar person of a suitable endotype to help them pull out of the break. He wouldn’t have made it through his own break if his omega friend, Athena, hadn’t been willing to assist him, despite her own preference for the same omega endotype. It was one of the reasons Jack had a mandated policy at Hyperion Security: any bonded employee was required to have at least two additional compatible emergency contacts which were not their bond-mate. And Dahl had insinuated that he didn’t care about his employees. They could suck it. Jack was an awesome boss.

“Helios General South, room 5324.”

“Why didn’t you try to bring him out?”

“Um, I’m omega and…um….not compatible with Rhys’s preferences,” Vaughn stammered.

“Ha! Not Cupcake’s type, eh? Wait, how do you know Angel is at Tim’s?”

“Um, Timothy and I…um...we’ve been…um...chatting?”

“I’m going to kill him,” Jack muttered, disconnecting the call. Helios General South was close. Jack rushed back into the restroom and wet a comb to run through his hair before gelling it in place with some pomade. He brushed his teeth and put some eyedrops in his eyes before giving himself a grin in the mirror. He then pulled off his shirt and gave his neck, face, wrists, and armpits a quick swipe with a wet hand towel before donning one of the fresh shirts Meg had left for him. His scent wasn’t going to be as clean as if he’d showered, and he didn’t have time to shave, but it was going to be the best he could do. Time to go be a hero.

* * *

Jack rushed through the hospital complex taking several skyways and elevators until he reached the correct floor. He hated hospitals with a fiery intent. Far too many tragedies had befallen him in hospitals. Angel was the only good thing that ever came out of a hospital visit and as perfect as she was, it couldn’t outweigh all his losses. He frowned as he barreled around the corner onto the Omega ICU wing and began looking at room numbers down the light lavender hallway.

_“Where is my mate?” Jack shouted down the corridor, anxiety beginning to tip into panic._

_“Stop, sir!” the giant blonde orderly said, blocking his path. “The doctor wants to speak with you first.”_

_“She needs me!” Jack screamed, frantic to find her. The walls of the hallway closing in on him as he tried to move past the large alpha._

“Sorry, sir,” a fairly large burly nurse stepped in front of him, blocking his way and startling him back to the present. “No alpha entry without pass. Is not visiting hours.”

“Look here…Nancy,” Jack snarled, peering at her name badge. “There’s an omega here that needs my help.”

“Is Nina. No pass, no visit,” Nurse Nina stated firmly, continuing to blockade his path.

“Listen up, pumpkin…..” Jack said, reaching for his pistol.

“Mr. Lawrence, Sir!” a voice said from behind him, and he turned to see Short Stack standing there looking decided more disheveled than he had at the memorial service, even after the car ride.

“Little man,” Nina said leaning past Jack to glance at Vaughn. “You say is okay?”

“Yeah, Nina, he’s here to help Rhys,” Vaughn confirmed.

“Alright, you say is okay, then is okay,” the nurse said, and returned to her station, eyes narrowing at Jack. “For now.”

Jack loomed over the shorter man and glared at him.

“Come on, sir,” Vaughn said quietly, leading Jack down a short hall and into one of the patient rooms. What Jack saw there kicked all the breath out of his lungs. Rhys, his hair a limp tangle, looked empty and thin, too thin. A variety of monitors were hooked up to his fingers, wrist, chest, and neck. His entire right arm was missing, and Jack could see the metal shoulder casing and conduit hookups pinned in place. Jack had been sure it was only Rhys’s hand that was prosthetic, but it was his entire arm, holy shit! Small flashes of blue ink peeked out of the hospital gown along the collar, and Jack frowned. Rhys’s chest was moving up and down far too slowly and shallowly for Jack’s liking. This vibrant man who could stand up to Jack without backing down and dish out some of the most vile threats Jack had ever heard, was now barely alive. There were a couple different IV bags connected to Rhys flesh arm. Cupcake should be sneering at him, spilling vitriol left and right, not just lying there waiting for death.

_She was lying there, so calm, so serene, her black hair spread over the pillows in her hospital bed. The unnatural stillness of her was slowly pulling pieces of him out and away. Why didn’t she open flashing blue eyes and turn them on him with that mischievous glint they always carried? Why didn’t she scold him for worrying too much? Jack knew she was strong and fierce. Where was her voice? Her smile? Her scent?_

_Jack’s hands shook as he slowly lowered the bed railing and climbed into the bed, pulling her close. She was cold, so cold, and he needed to warm her. He tucked himself around her slight form and kissed her hair, trying in vain to capture her scent. He heard a choked sob force its way out of him and couldn’t stop the rest of them from writhing free. She had slipped away, and he’d not even had the chance to say goodbye, to tell her how precious she was, how amazing of a mate and mother she was. Jack knew that she had most likely already known those things, but he’d wanted to tell her. He said them all now, muttered between exhortations of “please don’t leave us, I can’t do this without you” and “you were my greatest treasure”._

“He was dehydrated and malnourished when they found him,” Vaughn whispered, jostling Jack back to the present. Jack almost turned and left as the memories churned in his chest. “We’re not sure when he stopped eating.”

“How many other alphas did you try to get before me?” Jack asked, his voice a bit gruffer than he’d like. “How many have tried with him?”

“Tim first, then Yvette, then you, but you wouldn’t answer, then about four more others before you called back, but you’re the first one here,” Vaughn responded, counting off on his fingers. “I’m just glad we didn’t need to call Vasquez. Do you think you can help him?”

“That’s what heroes do,” Jack responded hoarsely around the bit of stomach that had decided to climb into his throat. “Now, get out of here, kiddo.”

“If you hurt him in any way, I’ll make sure no one can find your body,” Vaughn threatened before leaving.

“Yeah, yeah, tiny psycho, he’s in good hands,” Jack said to the door as it closed. He turned back to the bed, shaking the shadows of the past from his mind, and considered how he was going to go about this. He had a task to complete, and Jack never left anything undone. He was not going to lose Rhys, not now, not when Wil’s loss was still so fresh.

Jack approached the bed and took off his jacket and shoes, laying them over a nearby chair. This was one of those times when Jack wished the hospital didn’t have such good air filtration. He needed to be able to scent Rhys to see if he was too far gone to come back or not. He moved Rhys toward the edge of the bed, carefully moving tubes and wires. He took a moment to gently pull Rhys’s flesh wrist to his nose and scented. There was almost nothing there. He could barely make out the cherry blossoms and frankincense. Shit. He wasn’t sure there was enough of Rhys left to recover, but he’d keep trying. Handsome Jack never gave up. He slid up over the covers onto the bed next to Rhys and turned the omega’s head away to look at the bonding site. Jack could clearly see the bite marks of the initial bond, which he noticed had been surrounded by the tattoo of two concentric circles, the outer one broken. From the scarring, Jack could tell that it had been regularly reinforced. Good for Wil! Jack knew from personal experience that without regular reinforcement any bond would break in about ninety days time. Funny that he’d never seen Wil’s bond mark, probably due to all those high metal collars he’d used in the field to stabilize the shoulder RPG, or those weird turtlenecks he’d wear when they’d go for beers. Jack unconsciously touched his own bonding site remembering when it broke and how he had shattered.

_Jack was spiraling. He needed her, his one, his star, his bond-mate, and she was gone. He was free and freedom was the very last thing he ever wanted._

_“Hey! Jack! I’m here to pick up Angel for her play date. Hey…oh, shit! Jack!” a gruff voice in the darkness shouted, his own, but not his. “Shit shit shit!”_

_Everything tasted like ash. Something warm encircled Jack and he felt trapped. It was wrong, it smelled wrong, moldering hay and soot. He needed to leave, he needed to find her! Someone was screaming, “Daddy!”, and his whole being joined them in their torment._

_“Shit! Hello, Wil! Fuck! I need your help. Jack’s bond broke, he’s following it down….I know, I’m sorry about your date. You know I wouldn’t have called if it wasn’t an emergency. Ow! Fuck! Did you just bite me? Shit! Jack! Stop screaming, it’s scaring Angel.”_

_The pain in his chest was a single point, and infinite. It kept reverberating, an echo of what once was, what should be, the chains he had cherished, broken but lingering shades. His neck was burning. His arms were burning. Everything was burning, he was flame eternal and ash was all he desired. Time was irrelevant. His forever was crumbling untethered. And falling. And falling. And falling._

_“….looks like shit. When did it start?”_

_Inky blackness oozed over his skin, up his neck, into his mouth. Where did his love go? Why couldn’t he feel her anymore?_

_“I don’t know. I think it just started. He was… Shit! Shit!”_

_“Calm the fuck down, Tim. You’re not helping him by shouting.”_

_He needed to find his bond mate! Something was keeping him from her! Something that smelled wrong was holding him down, sour grass and stale whiskey! Wrong! Wrong! He needed to go to her!_

_“He keeps seizing. Jack said he needed some time alone, so I came in to pick up Angel for a dance-dance toddler play date with Tina and Ava at Maya and Krieg’s. When I got here, he was on the floor, shaking. Then, when Angel started crying, he started screaming. I tried. I tried. Shit. I tried to hold onto him, like they say in our field medic training, so that he didn’t hurt himself. Ow! Fuck! I think he just broke my nose!”_

_“Let go of him and let me talk to him, Tim. Go be with Angel.”_

_“What am I going to do, Wil? He’s my brother!”_

_“You’re going to put on your big alpha panties and take care of your niece while her daddy gets better. Give Athena a call and have her meet us at the hospital.”_

_The grip holding him down slowly released and he was unbound. He could run to her! He could find her! His treasure! His love! She must be nearby! He needed her to shackle him!_

_“For what it’s worth, I’m still sorry about your date. Shit! Grab him before he runs into the street!”_

_“For fuck’s sake, Tim, go get Angel and get out of here!“_

_A soft touch on his arm. Soothing. Gentle. The steel and wood shavings scent was not her, but it was familiar, not quite home, but safety. Wil._

_“Jack,” a deep quiet voice said. “Come on, let’s get in the car and go for a ride.”_

Jack started slightly at the beep from one of the machines. There wasn’t time for this memory lane shit, he needed to save Rhys.

He leaned in to put his nose against the omega’s neck and opened his mouth slightly to increase the airflow of the scenting. Jack’s actions were completely and unequivocally taboo in normal circumstances, but he needed to know if Rhys was emanating any kind of scent. If he was, Jack could bring him back.

It was there! It was faint, but it was there! Frankincense, cherry blossoms, fresh baked bread with butter and honey. It was sweet and lovely, and missing the bonded astringency. He had to fight with himself to not simply grapple the dying omega and curl him up into his own arms. There was work to be done here to get Rhys stabilized and there was no time to indulge his craving alpha instincts. He managed to arrange Rhys to allow him better access to the omega’s bonding site. Jack ran his left wrist and forearm heavily over his own bonding site, trying to get as much scent on it as he could. Then carefully, he cupped the back of Rhys’s head in his right hand, thumb pressed on the omega’s bonding site, and brought his left arm up near Rhys’s nose. He tapped on Rhys’s bonding site a few times rapidly, then paused, then again. Jack refreshed his own scent on his forearm regularly throughout the process and slowly over the next few hours the vitals monitors began to even out and Rhys’s body eased into a more relaxed state.

“That’s it, Cupcake,” Jack muttered, continuing to tap his thumb in a random pattern. “Relax, beautiful. You’ll be fine. You’re tough as shit with this arm and that eye and miles upon miles of sass and menace. Come on, let me see those gorgeous eyes, pumpkin.”

Rhys’s eye lids fluttered, then opened slowly, revealing the chocolate eye and ECHO eye. “Wil?”

Jack stopped his tapping and reached up to push the nurse’s call button. “Hey, Cupcake,” he said softly and grinned. “Welcome back to the land of the living. You gave us a scare there, kiddo.”

“Wha?” the omega said, his voice hoarse from disuse, his drowsy eyes narrowing. “Who da fug?”

“There you are,” Jack said, grinning wider and leaning back from the disoriented omega.

“Uch, Jack,” Rhys mumbled sleepily as he made a futile push against Jack’s chest. “Whare you immabed?”

“Whoa there, kiddo, settle down,” Jack said, grasping the omega’s arm and settling it back at his side so none of the wires were disrupted. “It’s not your bed. You’re in the hospital.”

Nurse Nina finally came rushing in and efficiently checked all the monitors, running a thermometer over Rhys’s forehead and behind his ear and clucking to herself.

“Hospital?” the omega inquired before sticking out his tongue and grimacing. Rhys’s eyes suddenly went wide, and Jack could see tears beginning to form in their corners as the omega gripped his shirt in a shaking white knuckled hand. A bitter note added itself to the omega’s scent and flowed out of the man so heavily Jack had to blink his eyes a few times from the sting of it. “My baby? Is my baby okay? Please!”

Baby? What baby? Jack made eye contact with Nurse Nina who sorrowfully shook her head. What the hell did that mean?

“Rhysie?” Jack said, as the omega began to squirm weakly away from him. Jack tried to get a grip on the distressed man, but as Rhys’s agitation grew, he became surprisingly strong and wiggly for a one-armed man and kept slipping Jack’s grasp.

“Jack! Let me go! Jack! I need to know about my baby! Jack! Let! Go!” Rhys shouted, his voice rising in hysteria, his eyes streaming hot tears as he struggled. “Please! Please! Let me go!”

Nurse Nina leaned over the bed and gripped the omega’s flailing arm gently but firmly and tucked it into his chest while cupping his head in her other hand turning it towards her face. Jack blinked himself back to the present and ran his hands up and down Rhys’s sides in a further attempt to quiet and comfort. “Be still, kochanieńka,” Nina cooed and shushed him as she gently petted his hair. “You let Nina and Mister Jack take care of you. Baby was lost. But you are not.”

Had Rhys and Wil been? Shit. This was worse than Jack had even imagined. He watched the omega’s eyes as the man slowly crumpled and curled in on himself. Jack wrapped his arms around the now keening omega, pushing the man’s face towards his own bonding site where he knew his alpha scent would be strongest. Rhys needed him, at this moment. The man had lost his bond mate, and now unborn child. Due to the overwhelmingly distressed and suffering scent the omega was now emanating, all of Jack’s instincts were shouting for him to protect, comfort, soothe the man in his arms.

_“I need to see my bond mate!” Jack shouted, agitatedly pushing into the doctor’s space. “Now, asshole!”_

_“We’re very sorry Mister Lawrence. There were complications during the delivery,” the woman said, pushing a hand against Jack’s chest. “Please come to my office where we can talk.”_

_“Fuck your office! Tell me where my bond mate is. Where my babies are!” Jack’s voice growing higher and more frantic._

_The doctor, a beta the back of his mind noted, grabbed Jack and shoved him into a nearby empty room, closing the door behind them._

_“Sit!” she commanded, pointing at a chair, and Jack moved toward the chair but turned to face her, growling. “I will take you to her shortly, Mister Lawrence, but you need to listen to me before I do.”_

_“What the fuck would you have to say that’s important enough to keep me from my bond mate and my pups?” Jack sneered._

_“As I was saying, there were complications during the delivery. Your bond mate started to hemorrhage. And I’m so sorry, we lost both her and the babes,” her voice gentled._

_Jack shook his head in confusion. The doctor’s words made no sense. His bond mate and the twins? Gone? His legs buckled beneath him and he gripped the chair, taking it down to the floor with him._

_“No,” he whispered before blackness found him._

Jack held onto Rhys tighter, causing a hiccupped whine that broke him out of his reverie and returned him to the present. There was no time to be dwelling on the past, not with an almost despondent omega who needed him. It was an old grief, and Jack could put it aside for now. He slid his arms up and down Rhys’s back and continually rubbed his chin over the man’s hair. He tried his best to keep Rhys’s close, so the omega could scent him. He wanted Rhys to feel safe and cared for, even as his own throat tried to strangle him.

After a while, when Rhys’s sobs began to taper off, Jack pulled back to look at the man in his arms. Rhys had settled into a fitful sleep, emitting occasional whimpers and whines. He hadn’t noticed when Nurse Nina left. This omega was more important than she was, and it was irritating Jack that he couldn’t figure out why. He’d only met Cupcake once, and while it was a pretty spectacular meeting, it didn’t explain his complete willingness to come to the hospital and help the ailing omega recover. The hospital signified every horrible thing that had ever happened in Jack’s life, and here he was anyway. He hadn’t even questioned it. As soon as he heard, he’d rushed over without any other considerations. And it wasn’t because this was his best friend’s bond mate, and therefore family. Jack had gotten into his car and driven over to one of his most hated locations in the universe without any reservations. Not once thinking of Wil. Not thinking of his own lost bond mate or his lost children. He had thought only of the suffering omega.

Rhys was muttering something, his mouth a frown of despair, his hand clasping and unclasping at Jack’s shirt, tears etching their way down the man’s face while he slept on. Jack pulled him in closer and whispered all the nonsense that he thought would calm the man and decided to take a closer look at what was happening at another time. Right now, Rhys needed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note: 1) I want to qualify that I fully understand that Tim did everything wrong for Jack when Jack was having a seizure. Tim is sweet but he remembered all the DO NOT’s as DO’s. 2) While I have not experienced miscarriage or still birth myself, I know that it is actually more common than people realize. I've tried to treat the subject with the care and consideration it deserves. I hope I've succeeded.

**Author's Note:**

> I've been running into a bit of writers block with my story "Beautiful Grief" set in the One Piece universe. I'm writing this in order to get writing again to help possibly shake some things loose from the block. There are several ideas I have where this could go, and I hope you've enjoyed the launching point. Let's go for a ride.


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